


The Wild West Side

by BelgianCar



Category: Woo Hoo! (Webcomic)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 18:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7325716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelgianCar/pseuds/BelgianCar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An unexpected avalanche near Port Metro unearths crucial keys to a decades-old mystery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ben

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can read this magnificent comic at http://woohoocomic.com/

Between bouts of saving the world and looking after Cody, Ben liked to spend what precious downtime he had wandering around downtown Port Metro. It always helped to keep his heroic spirit up to remind himself of why he loved this city. It was a beautiful day in early spring, and there was still a pronounced chill in the air. However, being a typical northwestern town, the people weren’t deterred by the spring chill. There were folks out buying food at the markets, chatting over coffee, and just going about their daily lives. Ben had joined a small crowd on the corner of Fifth and Smedley to watch a rather unusual musical duo that was busking in the shadow of the Port Metro Bank Building. He’d seen plenty of guitars (few of them actually good), and a couple of drum sets (okay for what they were, but still a little noisy for his taste). However, violin and kazoo? That was a new one. It was odd on the ear, yet somehow endearing.

In the middle of a rousing, ragtime-sounding song, a deafening roar echoed across the valley. The musicians stopped their playing and, along with the rest of the crowd, looked around to try and identify the source of the sound. Ben, of course, was immediately on high alert. Surveying the skyline, he didn’t see anything that immediately suggested danger in the city. One person in the crowd suddenly shouted, “LOOK!” and pointed up towards Mount Von Vegon, which loomed over the city on the inland side. There was a small, grey puff of smoke hanging over the mountain, and a large, wispy cloud of white filled the air below it.

“Looks like an avalanche,” someone else in the crowd said. And it did. The side of the mountain facing the city looked to be wavering and sliding down towards the city.

“Do we need to worry about it?” someone else asked, cradling a mewling baby in her arms.

“I wouldn’t think so,” someone else said, “the mountain’s still a good hour outside of town – I don’t think there’s enough snow there to reach down here with any real….”

Ben didn’t hear the end of the sentence – he'd vanished from the crowd and was halfway to the foot of the mountain by the time the next word was out of his mouth. Keeping a safe distance, he watched the avalanche roll down towards him. Being able to travel faster than typical physics allowed, he knew that he’d be able to get out of the way well before any danger arrived. Avalanches were perfectly natural, but that smoke cloud and the initial explosive sound indicated that this wasn’t just some natural happening. Somebody had triggered it, with no warning to the population below. Whatever the reason, that was not good. Moving to a clearly safe area, Ben watched as the avalanche spilled down the mountain for the next ten minutes.

Reaching into his jacket pocket, Ben took out his cell phone and checked the local news. There was a breaking news headline: “Unexpected avalanche on Mt. Von Vegon. Danger minimal – business as usual in municipal Port Metro.” Ben was relieved to hear that. Just as he was about to slide his phone back into his pocket, it buzzed in his hand. 

There were few things that could send a chill of fear down Ben’s spine. The Eldritch Monstrosity that he’d fought with his comrades in the public library – that had been bad. The horde of invading aliens that had kidnapped and replaced the entire barista population of Port Metro – that had kept him up for a few nights. However, there was nothing that matched this, and tragically, it was much harder to defeat than either of the others.

INCOMING CALL: RALSTON KIRKMAN; HEADMASTER; ST. HERMSGERVØRDENBRØTBØRDA’S SCHOOL FOR DANGEROUSLY BRILLIANT FLEDGLINGS.

He knew that answering the phone would mean bad news, but not answering it would just make things worse. Taking a sharp breath in and steeling his nerves, he hit the answer button.

“He…hello?”

“Mister Sullivan?” In an attempt to keep part of his identity a secret, Ben had given a false last name when he registered as Cody’s guardian for St. Hermsgervørdenbrøtbørda’s files.

“Yeah,” he said, cringing at the sound Mr. Kirkman’s voice, which sounded like an unnaturally aggressive bagpipe. “This is Ben Sullivan.”  
“Good morning, sir,” Kirkman said, his voice thick with faux professionalism that belied an incurable sense of superiority. “Sorry to bother you, but is Cody ill today?”

Ben sighed – not again, he thought to himself. “No, Mr. Kirkman, Cody’s in school.”

“I’m afraid sh…” Ben loudly cleared his throat. It had taken a stern lecture on Ben’s part to get Kirkman to refer to Cody as “xe,” but he had won out in the end. He wasn’t about to let Kirkman backslide – unlikeable crone that he was. “That is, I’m afraid xe isn’t. Mr. Sullivan. Now this is the fourth time this term. Any more, and I’m afraid that we will have to expel, um, xem from the academy permanently.”

“Oh, come on, Kirkman,” Ben said, despite his frustration at Cody running off again, “surely you don’t need to do anything that extreme.”  
“I’ve already given a great deal of latitude to young Cody, and h…xe is still one of the best minds to come through this institution. I don’t deny that. However, if xe isn’t going to work within the system and respect our operations, then there is little that we can realistically do to ensure that xe has a successful education.” A moment’s pause. “I’m willing to give xem one more chance. But if xe misses any more classes without proper notification, I will have no choice but to expel Cody from Hermsgervørdenbrøtbørda with no chance of appeal.”

Ben sighed heavily. “Fine. Thank you, Mr. Kirkman.”

“Thank you, sir. Have a pleasant day.” And the line went dead. Ben stuck his phone in his pocket and sighed once again.

“Dang it, Cody, what are you up to now?”


	2. Sam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can read this magnificent comic at http://woohoocomic.com/

“And tighten your buttocks….” Sam said, in a voice as smooth as lavender honey. As he said this, he was executing a flawless handstand and doing the full splits over his head. Before him, a room filled with twenty of his most advanced students attempted to do the same. While most had mastered the movement to some degree, none did it with the fluid grace that Sam had. Holding the pose, he watched the wavering crowd before him. He allowed himself a subtle roll of his eyes – there was only one person that he ever really wanted to see in that position, and the chances of him dropping in on Sam’s weekly advanced yoga class were as slim as anything.

A sudden rumbling thud startled the room and knocked everyone except Sam out of their handstands. Sam, unshaken, executed a perfect cartwheel from his handstand to a standing position.

“What was that?” echoed several of Sam’s students, and he knew that the serene atmosphere was lost for the hour. There was no point in continuing the class – everyone was too shaken up. He let the crowd mill around for a few moments, then he gathered their attention with a single ring of the singing bowl that he kept with his yoga kit.

“Well, I suppose that will have to do for today. Go ahead and pick something up from the juice bar on the house and we’ll work on this more next week. Namaste,” he said, pressing his hands together and bowing cordially to his students. They responded in kind, then began to file out of the room. Once the room was empty, he went to his bag and took out one of his phones. A single text message had been received, the ringer silenced so as not to disrupt the class.

“It’s done,” the message simply read. Sam allowed himself a small smirk and pocketed the phone. 

Normally, skipping meditation in savasana would have left Sam out of sorts for the rest of the day. But as today’s avalanche wasn’t exactly unexpected, he was willing to be much more forgiving. Putting a shirt on, he sauntered out of the room and joined the few remaining students at the juice bar. He asked for his usual, an ungodly concoction of fresh, organic produce and other assorted ingredients that was so bitter that it could it could kill most diseases. He took a long swig and raised his eyebrows as part of the elixir spilled on to his chin. He pulled the cup from his lips and examined it. These weren’t the custom-made super-recycled ethically-superior disposable cups that the bar usually stocked. “Oh,” said the young man behind the bar, “you spilled some juice on your chin, Mr. Velasquez.” He offered Sam a napkin as he did. Sam yanked it out of the poor boy’s hand and gave him a look that left him white as a sheet.

“I’m well aware,” Sam said, wiping the juice off. “Where are the cups that I chose for this establishment?”

“Well,” the barkeep said, stuttering, “w…we…we ran out. We’ll have more in tomorrow.”

“See that you do,” Sam said, ending the conversation and walking straight out of the studio. Maybe his day wasn’t going to be as serene as he hoped.


End file.
